Shades of Gray
by Ritornello
Summary: Will would give anything to save Warren. Even his past, even his self. Enter Gwen Grayson and Baron Battle who use this to their advantage and begin to plot an elaborate revenge that involves raising a perfect pair of villains. WillxWarren.
1. Prologue

* * *

"I can't do this without your help," Gwen insisted in a quiet tone so that she wouldn't be overheard. "And you know I wouldn't risk betraying you. Anything you want, if it's within my power, you can have as payment."

Baron Battle nodded, considering. "There is one thing."

"What? Tell me."

"Your Pacifier. Can you recreate it?"

"Possibly," she said in a thoughtful way. "Maybe not so portable. But I could make something like it. Why? What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I want a second chance with my son, to undo all the damage that his mother and that miserable school caused," he growled. "I want the chance to raise him like I didn't before, like I wasn't permitted." He clenched his fist. "Will the change be permanent? As I understand, your last plot involving the device was circumvented."

"A week is needed for the effects, both the de-aging and the memory loss, to settle in permanently. After that, he's yours until he hits eighteen for the second time," she smirked. "And it's no problem at all; I owe him for putting me here in the first place."

"He wouldn't have if not for that idiot Stronghold and his band of morons," Battle snapped. "I'm behind bars and that wretched duo _still_ manages to find ways to take from me and make my life a hell! But I will have my son back, if nothing else."

Gwen suspected that revenge on the Strongholds might actually follow quite easily. But for the moment, she decided it was better to focus on escape rather than raising Battle's hopes unnecessarily.

* * *

"It's been over a week since he disappeared!" Will had to restrain himself from screaming.

"And I promise you, we've been looking all over," his father assured him. "We're doing everything in our power to find Warren and bring him home safely."

"Don't worry sweetie. We'll get your partner back." His mother tried to reassure him, but Will felt ill.

He had been nervous ever since word had spread that Baron Battle had escaped from prison nearly a month ago. Even the news that Royal Pain had gotten out didn't worry him nearly as much. The prospect of her attempting revenge paled to thoughts of Warren's unpredictable father and what he might do in pursuit of or in anger towards his son. Somehow he knew, had always known, that Warren would be in danger if his father ever managed to slip out of the cell he'd been locked in serving his life sentences.

Warren had brushed it off, tried to act casual. But then he'd gotten the worst of it in battle and Will… he'd _failed_ him, at the moment of the worst danger, at the moment it most mattered. And what made it even worse for Will was the masquerade he had to maintain of being worried about losing merely a partner, or even a friend.

He had lost a lover; but nobody knew, nobody could know. And that made every hour worse, ever word of reassurance hollower.

A fortnight after losing Warren, Royal Pain came for him. He shouldn't have been surprised; it was only to be expected. But his game had been off since the loss of Warren and he wasn't used to acting on his own. His parents had warned him to stay out of action for a while, at least until he could find another partner or support, but he'd refused. He'd wanted action to occupy and distract him. But his mind never really strayed far from his anxiety over Warren and it had lead to his downfall.

Then Pain offered him Peace.

"I know where he is," she laughed. "But sacrifices must be made. Not going to be easy you know."

It was a connection to Warren and he grasped it eagerly. Had he been brighter or less eager at the prospect of finding Warren, he might have considered a way to outwit her. As it was, she seemed more than prepared for him, lead him bound with a power suppressing device to her lair. She explained to him Battle's demands, what they had done and why they had done it. She emphasized the permanence of her actions in particular; it had been too long, the change was irreversible. But he still had choices he could make.

Battle appeared and put Warren into his arms as Pain deactivated the cuffs. He looked down at Warren; he only had tufts of hair, but the familiar red streak could still be seen. The infant seemed to recognize will and nestled into his chest. Will thought he might break. Then Gwen gestured at the machine in the corner, her final offer.

Will stepped in.

* * *

"What is it?" Stitches asked, looking at the bundle in Gwen's arms.

"Another child for you to raise. With my help of course," she smiled, holding him out. "His name is Will. But we could change that if you like."

* * *

Thought I'd try something a little different here. The next few chapters will be how the duo get raised until they eventually come into conflict with their older former friends and relatives.

* * *


	2. What's in a Name

* * *

"You managed it." Battle looked impassively at the child Pain held. "I must say, I'm impressed. He still seems to recognize you though."

"I'm a fast learner." Gwen handed off the fussing child to Stitches who removed him to another room in the compound. "And even if he's upset now, he'll get better in about a week. And then he'll be the perfect impressionable little villain in the making."

"How did you manage it?"

"Bringing him in or convincing him to walk into the Pacifier?" She waved her hand over a pile of components and watched them rearrange themselves into a gun. She frowned and they fell apart again. "If the first, I came up with power neutralizing bands. Their range and the length they'll work are both extremely limited, but it allowed me to put him down for a moment at least. If the latter… Battle, do you know what it was like growing up, seeing people like you that I knew but years older than me? To be acutely aware of being out of place, of the age disparity between us? If I had cared about anybody, it would have been awful."

"That doesn't answer why Stronghold would willingly succumb to what could have easily been a lie."

"Because he wasn't thinking clearly because love is like that." Another wave and a different gun formed. "All I had to do was point out to him that even if he managed to find Warren, something we didn't intend on allowing to happen, he would be in his thirties before Warren was of an age." She laughed. "The fear on his face, Baron…"

"Victor." He frowned and picked up the gun. "And what do you mean _love_?"

"What do you mean Victor? And put that down," she snapped. "Before you cause an EMP and cause everything in here to go off-line."

He dropped it with a clatter. "I'm not allowing him to keep the name _she_ gave him. Victor is much more suitable with no ridiculous pun involved."

"Oh yes, Victor Battle completely does away with that. And completely bucks villain tradition too," Pain said with an ironic smile, going to the wall and putting the gun on a small rack.

"You haven't answered my other question."

"About their relationship?" She turned. "It was obvious when you subdued Warren. Well, perhaps not _obvious_. But all he was thinking about when he went down was Will and the way Will was tearing himself up fairly confirmed it."

"You've been watching him?"

"You're surprised? Technopath, Baron. Surveillance comes with the territory. What do you think all of those screens set up behind you are for?"

"Never mind. I will make sure to work that out of him when I raise him, now that I have the chance."

"Homophobic much?"

"I'm not having him romancing some hero!"

"Well he won't _be_ a hero. He'll be mine." She went over to a computer and began typing rapidly. "Personally, when they're old enough, I think it's something we should encourage. You know, a very Spartan approach." She gave him a disingenuous grin.

"I wasn't aware there was going to be any sustained contact between us now that Victor's role in luring Stronghold back here is complete."

"But we work so well together!" She laughed. "Besides, who else can hack into bank accounts to finance your sprees and cover your trail? And if you're going to insist on calling your son Victor, then don't refer to the boy I have as William Stronghold."

"What are you calling him, then?"

She leaned back in her chair. "I was thinking Damian."

Battle narrowed his eyes. "You're being facetious."

"That obvious?" Laughing, she sat up. "To be serious, I think the name Will suits him fine. His last name will be mine, of course. But keeping the first name the same is a bit of a pleasant stab at his parents. Corrupting it in a way."

"My boy is mine and I prefer Victor."

"Have it your way," she shrugged. "But don't expect me to pay any attention. Either way, I would think you'd want revenge on the elder Stronghold. Even if it takes a while, setting his own son against him is the perfect way to do that. And that's only happening if you stick with me. Come now; really, I think the situation would be quite beneficial for both of us."

Battle sighed. "Very well. I suppose it wouldn't hurt, at least for the moment. Seeing as I don't have a base of my own. I take it you have a plan in mind for what to do next?"

"Excellent. And actually, I do. First we need to be sure that the Strongholds and all of their hero ilk get off our backs for now. Then after that, I'm thinking robots. Large ones. Which means we're going to need a lot of metal and machinery. Care to help with the heavy lifting?"

"I suppose I have to. Where are we hitting?"

Before she could answer, Stitches walked back in with Will in his arms. He held the boy out to Gwen along with a bottle. "He's hungry," the lackey explained.

"Well?" She asked impatiently. "So stick the bottle in his mouth."

"Don't you think that's something his mother should do?" Stitches asked timidly. "I know he's a bit upset now, but do it right, take the time to raise him properly and… boys can be very attached to their mothers."

She sighed. "Fine. Hand him over."

"How domestic," Battle commented sarcastically.

"Shut up, Battle," she growled, nevertheless taking the boy into her arms and feeding him. "And you had better not mess up my costume," she admonished him.

"Gently," Stitches corrected in a quiet tone, before slinking out of the room after a glare from Gwen.

The bottle drained, she rocked the boy. "Battle, get me a swab from the cabinet over there."

"For what?"

"DNA," she said swabbing the inside of his cheek.

* * *

"I don't understand it," Josie sighed with her hair in her hands. "We warned him that he wasn't ready to go back out yet. It takes time and training to adjust to fighting without a partner. I know I wouldn't be up and about for a while if I ever lost you."

"They're not totally like _us_," Steve corrected. "But I agree." He shook his head. "Will always was a bit foolhardy when it came to his friends." His voice carried a slight hint of disappointment. "What was he _thinking? _When he gets back..."

"Don't Steve," she sighed. "It doesn't help, all your blustering about."

A knock at the door drew Josie out of her seat and she opened it up to find Layla.

"Hey Mrs. Stronghold. Thought I'd stop over and see if there was any… you haven't heard anything have you?" Her face fell.

"No dear. Do you want to come in? Have some tea?" She guided the girl by the shoulders into the kitchen to find that Steve had already wandered away. "I'll make you some."

"I should have been with him," Layla murmured when Josie set the steaming mug in front of her. "I shouldn't have let him go out on his own. He was really upset about Warren, I don't think he was thinking straight," she sniffed.

"You've got nothing to apologize for," said Josie with a shake of her head. "Will's an adult, just like you. You both had your own duties, your own jurisdiction…"

"But he was a friend and I should have looked out for him!" Tears slipped down her cheeks. "Like he would have looked out for me." She tried to take a sip, but her hands were trembling so she set the mug back down. "I was going over the crime scene the other day. I can't… I don't understand how Royal Pain managed to take him!"

"He had a lot of help defeating her four years ago. And for all her anger and flaws, Sue was never stupid. She managed to fool a lot of people the first time and had years to plot a way to undo him." She took Layla's hands in hers. "And besides, I'm his mother. If anything, it's my fault he recklessly went back out there instead of taking time off to get everything sorted."

"And Warren's gone too," Layla moaned. "They're probably dead, they're probably…"

"No need to think the worst," Josie reassured her. "They're both strong boys, capable of getting out of messes if they need to. And you know what supervillains are like. Blowhards, most of them. They wouldn't want to ruin revenge by killing them right away. And surely Battle wouldn't kill his own son." She looked away. "Not that I'm suggesting we should hope they're being tortured but…"

"…where there's life, there's hope?" Layla finished.

"Exactly."

"I can't help thinking… if we had stayed together then I would have been his partner, just like you and Mr. Stronghold. And maybe I could have protected him. Maybe Warren would have… I don't know."

"This isn't your fault, Layla. I know, feeling powerless in the face of something like this hurts. And sometimes blame feels better than admitting there was nothing anybody could do." Josie spoke slowly, he voice flat and grim, as if she were reciting something drilling into her long ago. "I know that you would do anything you could to help. But we're too close to this; all we can do for the moment is let other, more objective heroes do their jobs and try to find out what happened to them and bring them home."

Layla nodded and managed to force down some of the tea.

"Do you want any…" Mrs. Stronghold was cut off where there was a thump on the ceiling about them.

"What was that?" Steve appeared at the doorway.

"I'll check." Without concern for the neighbors, Josie ran outside and flew up to the roof, her husband and Layla in her wake.

"_NO!"_ Layla shrieked and the foliage throughout the block began to wilt when she saw what was in Josie's arms.

"Steve... Steve..." Josie was shaking, struggling to keep her grip on the body. "_Steve!_" She looked up into her husband's eyes, her own gushing and red-rimmed.

"We'll have to have it tested," the Commander said dryly as his wife handed him the torn, charred body that was still bearing remnants of Will's costume. "To be sure..." His voice had dropped to a whisper and his eyes were glazed over, looking down impassively as though he was staring at a foreign object, perfectly still in a way that disconcerted the women with him.

"Will!" Layla stretched out a hand as if to touch the body, but then drew back and and turned away with a sob.

"I'll see if whoever dropped… I'll look!" Jetstream took off into the air with a gasp, though she knew it would be empty.

* * *

"They'll be fooled?"

"That sack of meat should resemble him in every way that counts, from his DNA to his dental records. By the time the mock body decomposes in a month or two, he'll be inside the ground and nobody will be the wiser." Gwen tweaked the controls of the plane. "Going to have to work on that though. Those bodies degenerate way too quickly to be useful for much."

"And my son?"

"Leave it up in the air. Pull the same trick and they might suspect connection." She brought the plane down on an island. "It would be better if they weren't aware, at least for the moment."

Battle exited the plane with only a nod and retreated to his area of the facility. When he reached it, he punched in a code and the door slid open. The room was dark, but his eyes adjusted quickly. Without bothering to turn on the lights, he walked into a second room where there was a crib with a mobile made up of rockets and planets hanging over it. His son was asleep; quietly he removed the glove of his costume and touched him on the forehead.

"You're going to make me so proud," he murmured, before leaving to work out.

* * *

A little more exposition, a few new developments and we're at the end of the first full chapter. More next time with Will and Warren/Victor.

* * *


	3. Child Care

* * *

"Argh! _Why_ is he crying _again?_" Royal Pain gritted her teeth and a pile of parts fell onto the floor. "He was fed less than an hour ago, he can't possibly be hungry! Why isn't he _working?_"

Battle walked over to the crib she'd set up in the lab and looked down on it. "He needs to be changed."

"Stitches!" She screamed. "Get in here and fix him!" The older lackey appeared after a moment and lifted the child out of the crib.

"It's a child, not a machine." Battle remarked once Stitches left.

"And that is why I prefer machines," she growled. "At least I can figure out what's _wrong_ with a machine and can then easily fix it. And know that it will stay fixed unless something happens."

"So why are you keeping him in here if he bothers you so much?" Battle sighed as he ignited his hand and began welding a couple of metal plates together. "A lab isn't a safe environment anyway."

"How else is he supposed to pick up what he needs to know about what I do?" She waved together parts of a guidance system. "Stitches couldn't teach him as well as I could.'

"Stitches managed to raise _you_," he pointed out. "I trust him with Victor when I'm busy, like now. And you hardly pay attention to the boy even if he is in the same room as you. If you really want him to learn something you have to pay attention to him."

"I didn't know you had a degree in child psychology," she snapped.

"I've picked up enough over the years. You see I, unlike you, now have a son because I _wanted_ a son, not because I see him as the burden I have to put up with in some overly complicated and lengthy revenge scheme. And yes, I will admit, I have read things."

Pain burst out laughing. "What? You mean like _What to Expect When You're Expecting for Villains_?"

"Laugh all you want. But do a poor job and he'll end up rebelling against you as a teenager and wind up a hero all the same," Battle warned.

"I can do a better job than that," she insisted before falling silent in order to concentrate on the mecha in front of her.

"He's all cleaned up now," Stitches told her when he re-entered a few moments later.

Leaving the half-finished robot aside, Pain walked over and took him from her companion. "So how am I supposed to do this?" She glanced back at Baron Battle.

"Rock him a little. Bounce him. Don't you know how to play with children at all? Don't you have any memories of your own childhoods? You had two of them. You should recall _something_ and know at least a little about what works from experience."

"I don't need reminded," she snapped, lifting him up and down. He gurgled and reached out a chubby hand to tug on her lengthy brown hair. "Ow!" She barely held on and looked at Battle. "This little monster…"

"It's what babies do," he sighed. "They're curious. They like to pull and poke at things. Get over it. You're a villain. You've been shot at, punched, put through walls, and you're going to be upset at a baby?"

She turned back to Will with a set look on her face. "You are not getting the better of me," she whispered.

He smiled and reached again for her hair, so she held him out at arms length. Behind her, Battle shook his head.

"Here, let me see him." He gingerly lifted the baby out of her grasp. "Like this," he said bouncing Will with one arm and tickling him a little bit with the other. "Gently. Hey there!" He smiled at Will, an odd sight on his face, Gwen thought. "You're going to be big and strong like your father, aren't you?" He murmured. "Yes, you are! But you're not going to be like him at all in other ways, are you? No, you're going to be a _big bad_ that everybody fears, aren't you little guy? You and my boy Victor!"

Will laughed and clapped his hands.

"Doesn't look so hard," she said with her arms crossed.

"It isn't," he said, setting him down into the crib. "Although it would help if you had some actual affection for the boy."

"As if that's likely," she sneered.

"You could at least pretend."

"What I can't understand is why _you_ don't hate him," she said, reaching down and handing the boy a stuffed dinosaur. "He's the child of your worst enemy."

"And if he cares for me, what greater revenge is there? That's why _you're_ raising him, isn't it? Besides, if he and my son were as close as you say they were, they had to be of similar temperament, of similar mindset. If I am to believe that it is nurture which has the most effect, that I can change my Victor by raising him one way rather than another, I have to believe it of Stronghold's scion as well." He laughed. "And the simple truth of it is that over these past few days he's shown himself to be a well-tempered, cute baby. You should open up a little. You might like him more than you think you would."

"Never figured you for the good father," she grumbled.

"Neither did Victor's mother," he said dryly. "But wanting power does not signify how I feel about family." He went back to sealing metal seams with his own inner fire.

"Perhaps I could try again," she mused.

"You don't need to ask my permission," Battle said with a smirk. "He's your son, not mine."

Scowling, she lifted the boy, still clutching the plush t-rex, out of the crib a second time. "I supposed I could read to him or something. That would be suitably intellectual, I suppose."

"Victor has an alphabet I've been reading to him. Ask Stitches, he'll know where it is."

"This had better not be anything banal," she warned him.

"I think you'll approve."

A quarter of an hour later, and Royal Pain was settled in a chair in a more domestic wing of their compound with Will settled in her lap and book in her hand. "A is for Amy, who fell down the stairs…"

* * *

"Magenta," Josie opened up her arms and pulled the girl close. Wearing black was not an odd occurrence for her, but on this day there was not a stitch of color to be found on her anywhere, not even purple, and her hair was completely dark and somewhat unkempt. It was only the beginning of the wake but already her makeup was streaking. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course, Mrs. Stronghold," she said, her tears starting again. "Will was… he was the best of all of us. Everybody really loved him."

Josie rocked her back and forth and rubbed her back. "He loved you guys too," she replied.

Magenta unwound her arms from around Mrs. Stronghold and looked over at her husband. "Mr. Stronghold?"

Steve looked at her with an impassive, stony glare. "Magenta," he said with a brief nod.

"I'm sorry for your loss," she said, reaching for his arm to squeeze it.

"So am I."

"Steve!' Josie looked over at him.

"What?" He snapped.

Magenta quickly backed off and went over to Zach who was staring at a wide array of photos of Will that was nearly buried under flowers, most of which Magenta suspected were courtesy of Layla. She would have probably offered a greenhouse if she thought the funeral home would have allowed it. They were more brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend, Magenta knew, but that didn't mean she didn't love him as much, if not more than the rest of them.

Well, perhaps with the exception of Warren. Magenta looked at a photo of Will and Warren in the corner, wrestling over something one of them was holding. She'd always wondered…

"What's wrong with Mr. Stronghold?" She whispered urgently to Zach, trying hard not to dwell on both their losses at once. "Why is he acting so strangely?"

"His son just died in the line of duty," Zach said, looking down at her like she was crazy. "This isn't exactly a time for normal behavior."

"I know that, but it's still really weird!" She wiped beneath her eyes, smearing her mascara even further. "He's so cold, silent…"

"Some people deal with grief differently," Zach said with a subdued shrug. "I remember with this happened," he said with a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sniff. "That was the night Warren turned 21."

"And he could drink but none of us could and he insisted on staying home with us, so Will set up a fake bar in his parent's sanctum and spent the whole night making faux drinks and giving them weird names," she said with a brief smile that soon melted into weeping. "_Warren_…"

"Yeah." He pulled her close.

"We didn't even get a chance to _bury_ him! He probably wound up a pile of ash because of his _father_," she said, muttering the last in a vicious tone.

"Perhaps it was a mercy," Zach whispered. "Will wasn't the same those few weeks without Warren. He was reckless, he was distracted… I tried to cheer him up but he wasn't having any of it. Didn't smile, just obsessed about where he might be, doing over the fights again and again in his mind. You know I suggested me being his sidekick for a bit, just to hold him over? He practically took my head off for that one. Only time I ever saw Will genuinely mad." He touched the glossy photo in the center of the display, the one with Will in costume. "He missed him real bad. Don't know if he could have gone on for long, knowing Warren was never coming home. _If_ he ever allowed himself to accept it."

"Zach, I don't know if I'm cut out for this any more," she gasped. "I don't want to lose anybody else! I don't want to watch anybody else die, don't want to think about any of my friends broken so badly we can't even see him at his wake!" She shook her head. "I can't, I can't…"

"To be honest I'm not sure I can either," he said with a shake of his head.

* * *

After this, there will be time skips made evident by the beginnings of each chapter so the effects will play out more quickly over a long stretch of time. And kudos to anybody who recognizes the book Royal Pain read to Will!


	4. Test Run

* * *

Gwen had never been one for sentimentality, even as Sue. But Stitches couldn't seem to resist the indulgence, particularly when he was alone. He reclined in the chair and clicked on the television he kept in his room, a DVD already inserted into the player. He pressed the 'play' button and a jolty picture of Will on a carpet came up. He pushed himself up shakily on his hands.

"Come on, do it already," an impatient voice off camera snapped. His Gwen had never been very patient.

Will fell back onto his bottom and sniffed for a bit until Baron Battle stepped into view.

"Uppy?" Will sniffed.

The man knelt down and extended his hands, and Will hauled himself up unsteadily. He took one stumbling step, then another, and then a third. Stitches heard the sound of his own voice shouting encouragement as the boy took two more steps before falling again and bursting into tears. Still absorbed in memories, he sighed.

"Will's first steps?" A voice from the door spoke up.

"Oh! Sorry Baron." He turned off the television and removed the disc. "I didn't see you there." He put the DVD back into its box and put it on a shelf below the television in the middle of a row of similar boxes with various labels. "Does Gwen need something?"

"No. She's busy with the 'bot. Had a break, thought I'd come by and ask if you'd like to have a beer with me on the patio."

"Sure." Stitches smiled and ran a hand over his balding head in a sheepish gesture. "Sorry I'm not better company."

Battle shrugged. "Don't be so hard on yourself," he said as they went out onto the deck. It overlooked the ocean that spread out all around the private island they were on. He went over to a small fridge set up on the side and took out a couple of bottles. "They're imported. Should be good. Stole them last time we were on land to resupply." He popped the caps off and passed on to Stitches who had already settled into a deck chair.

"Do you think I did right by her?" Stitches sighed. "I always wondered what I could have done better when I was raising her. If I should have been stricter or more lenient."

"Personally I think she's lucky she had a sidekick willing to put up with that shit," Battle responded after a drink. "You guys get stuck with a lot of crap duties, but far as I knew, raising a kid wasn't supposed to be one of them. Anybody else I know would have left the tot to fend for herself and made a clean getaway."

"And where would I have gotten away to?" Stitches laughed. "I had nobody but her, even in school. We were never _romantic_ – she'd never have gone for that – so I tried to stay closer to her any way I could. Friend, side kick, confidant, father. It all ran together after a while."

"And now you're doing it all over again."

He shrugged. "I don't mind, no more than you mind raising little Victor." From inside there came a loud wailing noise. "And speaking of which," he sighed.

"Better get in there," Battle said standing up.

They arrived in the lab to find Gwen hovering over the large playpen with Will and Victor on either side of it. She was red-faced and screaming at each boy in turn, both of whom were cowering in the corners.

"I turn my back on you two for two seconds and you're ripping the place apart!"

"_Don't_ speak to my son that way," Battle growled. He went over and picked up Victor, who was holding one half of a torn Pooh bear. "I am perfectly capable of disciplining him myself."

"Mine!" Victor wailed.

"No, it's broken, so it's nobody's," Battle chastised him, but his son only looked confused. He sighed and patted him on the back. "Come on, let's get you calmed down."

Meanwhile, Stitches went over to Gwen who was still hovering over Will. He was looked up at them, tearfully clutching the second half of the bear.

"Mommy mad?"

"Yes!" Gwen clutched the side of the playpen. "You do not fight with allies! Steal from _enemies_, not the people we're working with!"

"You need to be gentle with him, Gwen," said Stitches softly as Will began to sob.

For a moment longer she scowled, but reached down and picked up Will just as Battle had done with his son.

"It's alright," she sighed. "But don't go around doing that to Victor. It's okay to take from people we don't like but you can't take from the ones we do, okay? No more ripping up toys."

Will's crying slowed down at the quieter tone of her voice and he reached for her face, kissing her sloppily on the cheek and tangling his hands in her hair in the process. For a moment Gwen hesitated, but then she pressed a kiss onto his cheek in return. Will's face lit up like a stadium and his tiny arms gripped as hard as they were able.

"Good boy," Gwen murmured.

* * *

Days later and it was time to try the mecha out for a test run. While Gwen prepped the machine and double checked everything one last time, Battle was in his quarter getting ready by suiting up. Victor was seated on the bed behind him, trying to sit still but fidgeting every so often. Battle wanted his son to see the way he put on his uniform, in order to take any of the mystery out of it. The first time Victor had ever seen his father in full battle regalia, he'd been scared out of his wits and it had taken a full hour of removing the helmet, cradling him, and wiping away tears to reassure him that it was really his father under there.

"You see these?" He held up two objects in front of Victor. "These are my gauntlets. And do you know where they go?"

"Hands!" The little boy pointed proudly.

"Very good Victor!" Battle acknowledged as he tugged on the thick, black leather gloves. "And now my helmet. Want to touch daddy's helmet, Victor?" The boy ran his hands over the curved metallic surface. "This protects Daddy's face when he's out fighting and has special sensors in it to help Daddy see and hear. It was made special for him by Aunt Gwen. See? And even when it's on, I'm still me underneath." He lifted up the helmet and placed it over his head, then touched a button so the visor slide away and Victor could see his eyes.

"Daddy!"

"That's right. Just me." He snapped the visor down. "Be good for Stitches while I'm gone, alright? I don't want to hear that you've been getting into any trouble when I get back.

"No!" He shook his head sincerely, his chin length hair swishing back and forth.

"That's my big boy." He helped Victor off the bed and sat him on his feet. "Now, let's go find Stitches so you can have lunch and Royal Pain and I can get on our way."

"Ride?" Victor asked hopefully and stretched out his arms.

"Alright," Battle laughed. "I suppose." He lifted his son up onto his massive, armor-clad shoulders and Victor clung to him, making airplane noises as they went through the compound.

Stitches set the boy into a booster seat at a table where Will was already seated. While Battle left for the hanger, Stitches set out bowls of macaroni and a little plate of cut up strawberries for each of them. As the boys were eating, he turned on one of the innumerable screens that Gwen had hanging all over the house and flipped until he found live footage of the attack.

"See that?" He pointed at the screen. "That's your mommy," he told Will, "and that's your daddy," he said to Victor.

"Mommy's bigger!" Will stuck his tongue out as he finished his strawberries.

"Nuh-unh!" He pouted, looking down into his bowl while Stitches scolded Will.

"That wasn't nice! Both Royal Pain and Baron Battle are very tough fighters and very important!" He pointed towards Victor. "See how sad you made your friend? You should apologize," he suggested

"Sorry," Will mumbled.

"Good boy." He patted Will on the back. "And don't you worry. My girl couldn't do it without your papa," he assured Victor. "And now that you've both eaten, I think it's time for a little nap."

"Not tired!" Will insisted.

"You need to rest if you're going to grow up to be big and tough," Stitches told him. "You too Victor. Come on." He herded the boys into the nursery that they had set aside for the boys after the first couple months. The two squabbled and bickered as children were wont to do, but Stitches swore they were more cooperative and fell asleep faster when they were in the same room.

He set them each into a crib to settle down, whereupon Will grabbed the bars and started making faces through them at Victor. Victor made faces right back until Stitches threatened to separate them if they didn't get to sleep. Both whined about it, but dropped off before long, each clutching their respective toys as the afternoon wore on.

They'd had dinner and Stitches was busy bathing them by the time their parents returned. The lackey was soaked to the bone when Battle and Pain walked in.

"How did it go? They didn't give you any trouble, did they?" The Baron asked.

"Victor is afraid of water, instinctively I think. Had to wrestle to get him in," he said with a slight grimace, remembering the boy's frantic chorus of 'no, no, no!' once he knew where Stitches was taking him. "And Will was a bit cranky earlier. But overall they were both well-behaved little guys." At that moment, Will gave a vigorous splash and grinned up at his mother, while Stitches rubbed the dripping water out of his eyes. "Well-behaved for their age," he amended.

"Speaking of baths, I think I need one myself," said Gwen. "I was sweating like you wouldn't believe. It's hot inside that thing. I'm going to have to work on the interior cooling system, or longer missions will be completely unbearable."

"Do you need me to run a bath for you?" Stitches asked as he gently worked shampoo into Victor's hair. "I can once I'm done here."

"I'll take care of it. Just make sure they're cleaned up."

"That actually sounds like a good idea," Battle nodded.

"You do look like you took a hit or two," Stitches remarked as he rinsed Victor's locks.

"Got pounded into a crater _twice_," he growled. "But I'm not worried. The guy who did it to me is going to need skin grafts before he does any heroing again."

"Well done," said the side kick appreciatively. "No, Will! The ducky is not for eating!" He pulled the toy out of the boy's mouth.

"I'll let you finish up," Battle chuckled.

Once she was finished with her own ablutions, Gwen entered the nursery in her bathroom, still toweling off her hair, and found the boys playing with trucks under the supervision of Battle and Stitches. The moment she walked into the room, Will dropped the cement mixer he was holding and toddled over as quickly as his tiny legs would let him, begging to be picked up.

"Mommy, mommy!" He held out his arms.

"Come here you little rugrat," she grinned. "You know what your mommy did today? She tested out a big, big piece of tech. And it worked! Your mommy made that huge robot run! Pretty good, right?"

Will smiled, like he always did at her, and kissed her as they settled down into the rocking chair off to the side to watch Victor play with his father. He drifted off, hand wrapped around a lock of her hair, and Gwen let him rest like that until Victor went to bed and she was tired herself. Lowering him into the crib, she heard him whimper as she pulled up the blanket.

"Shhh. Mommy will be here in the morning. And it will be a whole new day of adventures," she promised.

* * *

Kids are between 1 ½ and 2 here. There will be more on the Strongholds and company next time, but this time I thought I'd give you an all Battle and Pain chapter. Hope I didn't do too badly with the kids.


	5. Build Up

* * *

"Well what's the matter now?" Steve snapped at his wife when she came through the door looking angry.

"This!" She tossed a letter onto the table in front of him. "Well aren't you going to open it up and read it?"

"I'm sure you'll be happy to tell me what's inside. You obviously know what it is already," he said, going back to his paper.

"They're opening up an inquiry, Steve!" She picked up the letter and waved the opened envelope in his face. "Remember last week? After the fight with Cumulonimbus?"

He chuckled. "The 'nimbus' fit alright. I thought she was going to be able to create storms or at least a little rain, but all we got was some fog."

"They're saying you used undue force to subdue. That you overstepped a boundary of our ethical code and you unnecessarily escalated on a lower level villain."

"She was a thief!' He retorted.

"She was a teenager who was after some jewelry, probably to impress her friends. You dislocated both of her arms and broke the right one!"

"She deserved more than that if she was going to be a villain!" He threw the paper aside and stood up. "They're all in the same boat, you know that. If I didn't stop her now who knows how bad she might have become?"

"Do you even hear yourself?" Jodie looked at him with a pained expression. "She was a child and she wasn't doing anything _that_ villainous. She wasn't even as old as our…"

"Don't say it!" Steve cut her off with a scream. "Don't you compare her to him!"

"I wasn't comparing, I was only…"

"I'm done." He turned his back on his wife. "If you need me, I'll be in the Sanctum."

"What if they bring charges?"

"Then call a lawyer! I told you, I'll be in the Sanctum!"

His voice echoed from down the hallway and Josie gave a weary sigh, opening up the letter again and reading it nervously over and over. The girl's face had stayed with her, the terror in the blond's eyes when she saw The Commander looming above her and looking at her like she'd just slaughtered a roomful of puppies. Her scream had been high and her tears almost endless, but her husband had been blind to all of that.

Reading the letter one last time, Josie replaced it in the envelope and went to the phone.

"Hello? Jonathan? It's Josie. Yes! It's good to hear you too. No, things are fine. Alright, so I'm a little shaken up. Yes. Right. I know. Everybody saw, didn't they? Look, Jon, I need somebody to talk to and Steve isn't… I'm glad you understand. Thanks. I'll fly right over."

* * *

Stitches reclined on the deck chair next to Battle, their afternoon break having become a small tradition between them.

"Nice to have a break once in a while, isn't it?" He sighed.

"It is," Battle agreed.

As if on cue, a grubby Will burst out onto the patio, clutching a piece of paper in his hands. He crawled up onto Stitches' lap and shoved the paper into his face.

"Grampy! Made you this!"

"I see that," said Stitches, setting down his beverage and taking the crayoned piece of paper. "What is it?"

"Me and mommy and Grampy and Uncle Battle and Vicky!"

"Victor!" Baron Battle protested.

"There's the sun!" Will jabbed at a misshapen yellow blob in the corner of the paper. "And that's the compound!"

"Very good, Will!" Stitched kissed his cheek. "I love it!"

"Gonna put it on the fridge?" Will asked hopefully.

"Right on it," Stitches promised. "In the center where everybody can see it!"

"Will, come back inside," Gwen said, stepping through the door. "Your grandpa and Victor's dad need their quiet time."

"It's alright," Stitches assured her as Will slid off with a sigh. "I don't mind."

"I promised I'd watch him in the afternoons and I'll keep to that."

Will pushed the picture towards her. "Grandpa says it goes on fridge!"

"Well then that's where we're going to put it," she told him, picking him up and balancing him before taking the picture from his hands. "Wow! You're getting big!"

"I wanna be big as mommy!"

"Well you've got awhile until you're _that_ big." She quickly kissed his forehead. "Now let's get back and see what Victor's doing. Alright?"

"Okay," said Will, lifting up locks of her hair and letting them fall, blown slightly by the ocean breeze.

They went back in and left the two older men alone, listening to the sound of the surf.

"How has Victor been?" Stitches asked after a while. "I'm so worried about Will most of the time that I haven't noticed Victor's development."

"Well, he's bright. Good at counting although he keeps skipping six for some reason. I think he's going to have a good mind for mechanics as he grows up, so it would probably be good to have Gwen teach him a few things."

"She always did have a way with machines, even from her earliest years."

"I'm thinking about giving him some language books to play with too. When he was with his mother he knew Mandarin. Maybe he's got a knack for that too. Could be useful."

"So he can tell people their about to die in their native tongue?"

"Precisely." He drank and sighed. "Soon we'll have to do more than play with and read to them, though."

"Training?"

"When the time is right. Start too young and that could cause some serious injuries. Four is a little bit too soon. Besides, as focused as I realize I am, I still want my son to have some manner of childhood."

"That's something I worry about," Stitches confessed, picking at the label on his empty bottle.

"Meaning?"

"Well do you think we're doing the right thing, raising them on an island with only ourselves? Perhaps they should be around other children, enrolled in a normal school. Being isolated like this might make them awfully antisocial."

"I doubt we could do that and remain under the radar. We are wanted, Stitches. And now that I have a second chance, I'm not letting anything take that away from me again. I won't spend his second childhood in prison too." He sipped. "Besides, being antisocial is part of the villainy package. And who wants normal anyway? It's overrated."

"Maybe you could do something to make it just a little more normal?"

"What would you suggest?" Stitches leaned over and whispered in his ear, prompting a thoughtful expression. "Perhaps that _would_ be a good idea, when they're ready."

* * *

"Mommy's putting my picture onna fridge," Will told Victor proudly as he plopped back down by the table and took another piece of paper.

"So?" Victor grabbed another crayon and drew a bunch more scribbles.

"Whatcha drawing?" He leaned over to look.

"Fire."

"Like your daddy?"

"Just a fire." He snatched the picture away.

"I just wanna see!"

"It's not done yet!" Victor held it out of reach so Will sat back and pouted. Victor chewed his lip then set the picture down on the small table they were coloring on. "I'm not good."

Will picked it up and stared. "I think it's pretty. Wanna play blocks?"

"Okay."

Will sat down by the pile and started stacking them. "I'm gonna make a stack that's a million feet high, as big as mommy's robot!"

"My daddy says it's not that big."

"Yes it is!" Will say determinedly stacking.

"Not it's not!" Victor insisted and took a swipe at Will's stack of blocks and then planted his hands on his hips. "My dad built it and he says it's not!"

Will looked at the scattered blocks like his was about to cry. "Well… well okay."

"Okay, maybe it's _almost_ a million," Victor conceded, bending down to give Will a hug. Then he started stacking the blocks back up. "Come on." He poked Will. "Don't you wanna fix it?"

Will shrugged. "Okay." He started stacking more blocks on top of the ones Victor had already set down.

"What are you two up to?" Gwen poked her head in. "I thought I heard something."

"Nothing, mommy!" Will looked over just as the tower started to lean.

"Will!' Victor pushed him out of the way as the blocks tumbled to the floor.

"Well that wasn't very architecturally sound," said Gwen, looking down at the blocks.

"Huhn?" Will looked at her with a confused expression.

"I mean," she said patiently, sitting beside them, "that if you want to build something high, it has to have a larger base. Like a pyramid." He still looked confused, so she pulled the blocks closer. "Here, let mommy help you."

Battle walked in on them on them an hour later as the sun was beginning to set. "What's with the ziggurat?"

"I'm teaching them about architecture and how not to make something fall."

"Looks like you're playing with blocks to me."

"It's a teaching tool!" She shouted.

"Look what we made, Daddy!" Victor pointed to the wooden pyramid. "Look how high it is!"

"I see that. Very good." He came over closer to inspect it. "Well after such a hard day of construction I'll bet you two want dinner. What are you hungry for?"

"Brownies!" Will suggested.

"Will, you can't have brownies for dinner," Gwen said.

"Pie?" He asked hopefully.

"Not that either."

"Cookies?"

"No sugar!" Gwen said, exasperated. "You will rot your teeth and then you will have to get dental treatment and you will not like it, I promise you."

"Oh." He looked crestfallen.

"But maybe you can have a brownie _after_ dinner, _if_ you promise to brush," she told him, cheering him up immediately.

"Daddy, I want meatloaf," said Victor.

"Grandpa's meatloaf!" Will clapped. "Grandpa makes good meatloaf."

"I could make it," Gwen offered.

Will looked at Victor who looked at his father who looked at both boys then up at Gwen. "You've had a long day of watching the boys. Maybe you could let Stitches handle this one?"

"Are you saying I'm a bad cook?"

"I didn't say that. I only think that you're tired and Stitches knows his way around the kitchen, so…"

"Stitches!" She screamed.

"Yes, Gwendy?"

"Stitches, the boys want meatloaf. Don't I make a good meatloaf?"

The lackey flushed and ducked out of the doorway. "I'll go check to make sure we have all the ingredients!"

Gwen crossed her arms and fumed. "It wasn't that bad the last time."

"There was an inch thick crust of charred meat on the bottom of the bread pan the last time." He clapped her on the shoulder. "Go on and sit this one out soldier."

"Dad, can I help Stitches?" Victor asked.

"If he lets you and doesn't think you'll be underfoot. Go in and ask."

"And what will you do until dinner?" Gwen snapped. "Make the salad? Since I apparently cannot do anything culinary correctly."

"I'm going to go to my room and tweak my armor," he said with a grin. "But you should probably stay away from that too."

She glowered as he left, then felt a tug at her knee.

"I think you cook good, mommy."

"Well thank you, Will."

"Specially when you're making cookies."

She picked him up with a smile. "Well maybe you'll get an extra one after dinner, just for that. Do you want to go see if Grandpa and Victor need any help?"

"Okay!"

"And maybe they'll let me set the table," she winked.

"Gwen!" Stitches smiled when he saw them enter. "I didn't mean…"

"It's okay," she laughed and set Will down. "It was pretty bad, wasn't it? And the time I made the fish and overdid the cilantro?" Stitches blushed but didn't say anything. "If you need any help with this, though…"

"You could measure out the spices into a bowl." He pointed to an open, frayed book. "There's the recipe."

Will walked over to Victor who was busy with a plastic bag. "What's that?"

"I get to smash the cereal for crumbs!" Victor grinned.

"I can make up a bag for you too," said Stitches, setting aside the beef he was grinding.

"Yeah!" Will clapped. "I wanna smash up crumbs too."

Stitches glanced at Gwen who smiled back as he reached for the cornflakes and the Ziploc bags. The Baron came in a few minutes later, having given up on the armor, and started chopping up vegetables and mixing oil and spices for dressing. While the meatloaf baked they watched a cartoon, an old favorite of Gwen's when she was a child about a group of trick-or-treaters.

"Mommy?" Will squirmed next to Gwen.

"No, you can't have a cookie before dinner, Will. Wait until after."

Jaw dropped, he looked at Stitches, who winked.

"Mothers always know," he reassured him with a pat.

* * *

Spent way, way, way to long away from this one. Ben 10 distracted me. But now there are updates and plots and everything!


	6. Pretty Horrible

* * *

"Mommy, you dropped your earring!" Will bounced off the bed and scooted under the dressing table to pick up the fallen piece of jewelry. "Here you go!"

"Thank you sweetie." She took the dangling earring and pushed it into her ear. "How do I look?"

"Like the prettiest mommy ever!" Will climbed up into her lap and gave her a kiss.

"Careful," she laughed. "Don't smudge mommy's makeup."

"Sorry," Will said as he climbed off.

"Now are you going to behave for Grandpa?" She asked as she reached for her handbag.

"Yes," he nodded. "I'll be good."

"That's what I wanted to hear." She bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Mommy has to go because her date will be here soon. But she'll be back before long, alright?"

"Okay," said Will, following her into the foyer.

"Aren't 'you a sight?" Stitches remarked when she entered the room. "You look ravishing, darling."

"Thank you." She looked down. "Will thinks so too."

"Will has good taste," Stitches winked.

"Do you think he'll like the dress?" She smoothed the silk down.

"It's gorgeous on you," her sidekick assured her. "Flatters your figure perfectly."

"Good. I want this to go well." She checked her makeup in the mirror when there was a buzzing inside her purse. "My communicator!" She took it out. "Alright, he's here. I've got to go."

"When will you be back?" Stitches asked after a brief hug.

"That depends on how the evening progresses," she winked. "Remember, be good," she warned Will one last time before stepping outside.

"Bye mommy!" He waved.

"Have you done all your homework?" Stitches asked him.

"Uh-hunh! Me and mommy practiced reading and numbers and everything."

"Good. Then why don't you go play with Victor until dinner's ready?"

"Okay!" He was out of the room like a shot, running through the compound to find his companion.

"You can come out now," Stitches said calmly as he walked into the kitchen and started making a cup of tea.

"She looked like a whore!" Battle screamed and punched the counter top. "That dress had no back, her breasts were practically spilling out of the front…"

"Temper, temper, Baron," Stitches warned as he stirred in honey. "We just had that counter redone."

"And wearing red for him? She never dresses up for anybody! Why him?" He glared at Stitches. "What do you think they're doing?" He asked without waiting for an answer.

"If I remember, going to a sushi place. He is from southern California."

"I don't care if he's from the moon! She's jeopardizing our cover!"

"I'm sure they'll be discrete. His boss will make sure that they have privacy."

"See? He has a boss! He doesn't even work for himself!"

"A lot of villains have bosses," Stitches pointed out calmly. "Plenty of very successful ones belong to organizations. Gwen herself has talked about it from time to time."

"I don't like it."

"If you don't mind my saying so, I know what this is about and would like to point out that you did have several years. Six if I'm not mistaken. More if you count school. Why be mad now?"

"I'm not mad!" He thundered.

"Of course not. You're just breaking apart the kitchenware because you've nothing better to do." He shook his head. "I'm going into the living room to watch some television and keep an eye on the boys. You can join me when your finished pouting."

"I'M NOT POUTING!" He screamed and turned into a pillar of fire, setting off the smoke alarm.

"Excellent work," Stitches said crossly. "Now simmer down before you set the sprinklers off and we really have a problem."

"I'm going out," he growled. "For a walk!"

"Suit yourself," said Stitches as the beeping finally stopped. "But you've got nobody but yourself to blame," he murmured under his breath once the Baron was safely out of earshot.

* * *

"And mommy had on a pretty red dress and black shoes that were really high and pointy…"

"Watching girls get dressed is dumb," said Victor rolling his eyes, moving his controller as he raced against Will.

"Mommy's not a girl. She's pretty!"

"Girls are pretty, stupid," said Victor. "That's why they're girls."

"Boys can be pretty," Will protested. "I think you're pretty."

"I'm not pretty!"

"But you have pretty long hair like mommy's!"

"Shut up!" Victor threw down the video game control. "I'm not pretty!"

"But mommy likes it when I say she's pretty!"

"Boys aren't pretty!" Victor screamed, curling his hands into fists. "Take it back!" He shouted and jumped on Will who screamed.

"Boys!" Stitches ran into the room and pulled them apart. "What on earth is this about?"

"He hit me!" Will sobbed.

"He called me pretty!" Victor accused.

"Victor!" Stitches scolded. "Will was trying to be nice to you. That's not a reason to hit him."

"My dad says that nice people are stupid and should be beaten up."

"That doesn't apply to our partners. And your dad is nice to you, isn't he?"

"I guess. But apologies are for losers."

"Apologize or you will go to your room without dinner."

Victor scrunched up his face. "I'm not pretty!"

"Alright, that's it young man. Let's go. March."

Will sat down alone until Stitches came back a few minutes later. "Did I do something bad?"

"Not exactly," Stitches sighed as he sat into a large recliner. "I know your heart was in the right place. Boys are more usually called handsome though."

"Oh." Will walked over and folded his arms on the chair's arms, setting his chin on top of them. "I'm sorry I got Vicky into trouble."

"You didn't get him into trouble," Stitches corrected. "He got himself in trouble."

"Oh." He traced a finger along the chair, pushing up the pile of the fabric. "I wanna be pretty like mommy."

"Oh. Well." Stitches looked at him, remembering the nervous high school freshman who'd first shown up on his doorstep, asking for his 'daughter.' "I think it's safe to say that you'll be rather handsome when you get older."

"I don't wanna be handsome. I wanna be pretty."

"Well… well, you can be whatever you want to be," said Stitches with a smile. "Now, care to show your old grandpa how to play one of these things?" He pointed to the machine.

"Oh, it's really easy! You press here and the car goes forward. And the car turns like this. Here, you can play Wario like Victor was playing. And I'll be Peach!"

"Well alright, then. Let's race!"

* * *

"Wow. This is really nice." Josie looked around at the dark wood paneling on the walls, the richly upholstered seating, the softly light sconces on the wall. "Beautiful atmosphere."

"I thought you deserved something nice since you got hurt so badly in the fight last week." Mr. Boy looked, blushing, towards the cast that enclosed her arm. "I understand that Steve hasn't stopped patrolling?"

"He says that crime doesn't stop and neither should he," she sighed. "Be nice if he did. It's not exactly easy vacuuming and keeping things in order with this on."

"Well if you need any help you have lots of friends," he told her as he pulled out her chair. "You know we're all willing to lend a hand."

"I don't think Steve would take very well to that," she sighed. "Sometimes I don't think he even wants to work with me anymore. And I don't think people are as eager as you say."

"Josie!" He ducked behind a menu. "That isn't true!"

"We've been using up favors at an alarming rate, trying to keep him out of trouble." She shook her head. "I keep asking myself how long it's going to be before he kills somebody."

"Surely it's not as bad as…"

"You don't have to patrol with him!" She snapped, and then softened. "I'm sorry, Jonathan. I'm ruining a lovely evening. I didn't mean to get upset."

"You don't have to apologize," he said, setting aside the menu. "I know this must be hard on you."

"I get tired of it!" She started pulling apart a piece of bread. "He expects me to put up with so much and acts like it's nothing, as though it's what I'm expected to do. Do you know how embarrassing it is? I feel like we're being watched every time we get called up, like people are waiting to see how we're going to go overboard this time, who we're going to terrify or what we're going to destroy." She dropped the bread. "You know we had to use up our retirement?"

"Why? For what?"

"Settlements. Paying damages for buildings, trying to keep everybody quiet and their mouths shut."

"And Steve isn't worried about this?" He asked, motioning the waiter away before he got close.

"He keeps saying that if we do our jobs right, we won't have to worry about retirement and that there's nobody to pass anything on to anyway." She frowned. "Life hasn't been a bed of roses for either of us, but I don't want to resign myself to going out in a blaze of glory either. It's not what I would have wanted. And this is what Will would have wanted either," she murmured, her voice perilously close to breaking.

"It's alright," her dining companion whispered, taking her unbroken hand into his.

"It's not alright," she sighed. "But I don't know what to do about it."

"For the moment, perhaps you could just enjoy this?" He smiled, hoping she would as well. And a few moments later her lips twitched.

"Alright. I'll try."

"Good," he said, trying not to beam.

* * *

"You're home late," Baron Battle snapped as Gwen stumbled in at five in the morning.

"You stayed up?" She looked at him oddly. "What did you do that for?"

"No reason. Other than the fact that you were out with somebody who's been terrorizing the greater Los Angeles area for years and who know what he was intending on doing to you."

"We had sushi. And then we went out for frozen yogurt." She started removing her earrings. "He might have talked about his old crush a little more than necessary but otherwise he was perfectly charming. Anyway, I can take care of myself. He relies on rays and I'm a technopath. He's not about to pull anything on me that I can't dismantle with a wave of my hand. Besides, if I was in trouble, what we're you going to do from the island?"

"I'm just making sure you got home alright!" He crossed his arms belligerently. "I don't see that there's anything wrong with that, especially since your death means we'd never get the mecha working."

"You're not my father!" She slammed down her handbag. "And speaking of which, where is he?"

"In bed."

"Good! That's where all sane people should be."

"You're not."

"Fine then. All _older_ people."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Battle stood up, looming.

"Oh, don't try and scare me Baron." She laughed. "As if that's even a _real_ title. At least Billy earned his moniker."

"Billy?!" He scoffed. "That's his real name? Billy? And you're saying he earned his villain name? Please. Nobody who calls themselves Dr. anything has a real PhD."

"Well he _does_," she said, kicking off her shoes.

"In what? Being horrible?"

"Yes, in fact. Exactly that."

"Well you're not Royal anything either!" He pointed and shouted as she walked down the hall. She didn't even bother to look back and he sagged. "Damn it. I'm losing my touch," he muttered before a yawn escaped. He should probably be in bed, but he wasn't about to say so.

On his way to his quarters, he looked in on Victor, who as he understood it had spent the better part of the evening in his room for fighting with Will. He stepped in to check on his son and sighed.

"Maybe we don't belong here," he mused, before leaving as quietly as he'd entered.

* * *

Promised I'd spend more time on this story! Aw, but now the Battles are both sad. Only temporary, though. And I'm not _exactly _sure what I'm doing with Will but anything's possible.


	7. Going Wrong

* * *

Will's pencil stopped and started as he tried to focus on his equations, above the sound of the arguing.

"Why did you come? I was fine! I would have gotten myself out!"

"He had that contraption on your head already, Gwen. It was powering up. When exactly were you going to start working yourself free of it?"

"I was waking up. You didn't need to interfere." _Slam_. "You always interfere! I'm not weak you know. I don't need someone charging in to rescue me all the time."

"I never said you were or that you did, Gwen."

"Then quit calling me Gwen!" She bellowed and Will winced. "Royal Pain to you! And he wasn't that far along into his plan. You're exaggerating. I can work myself out of a mind-downloading machine with a wave, I didn't need you. He'd barely sedated me. He probably wasn't even reading the incantations right."

"You know, if you took better care who you picked to date to begin with and didn't go out with a man so obviously still into his former girlfriend, these things wouldn't happen. There were warning signs, Pain."

"I don't need a lecture from you! You're not my father!" She finally stormed into the kitchen, not even stopping to look at Will as she dove into the freezer. "I don't want to talk about this, especially not with you!"

"Ever single one, Pain. Aren't you noticing a pattern? The guy with the goo all over him who tried to eat your brains, that purple fruity art trader without arms who wanted you to wear that transparent plastic tablecloth of a dress, the _robot_, for the love of…"

"Nothing was wrong with Meggy!" She violently dug into a tub of ice cream and threw a scoop into a bowl. "We parted on good terms. He had other things to do, I wanted kids some day. Well, more kids." She finally looked at Will. "Keep doing your homework, sweetie, Baron and I are just having a discussion."

"Wait, _kids?_" He crossed his arm. "Did you two _do_ something?"

"He was a robot. You know that I'm a technopath. I can move things inside of him without having to even touch him. And why would you be surprised at the range of devices I can make with his parts?" She grabbed a spoon and started shoveling in the vanilla. "Not that it's any of your business or relevant to this discussion. In fact, this isn't even a discussion. It's over, that's what it is." She licked the spoon and gave a last nod to Will. "Bring me your homework when you're done and we'll look over it, alright?"

"Sure mom." Will nodded then dropped his head again as the Baron stormed past.

"That's disgusting! A robot? Really? And it is my business when you bring them home!" He shouted and followed her out of the room. "I don't care what you do to yourself, but this is my house as well and I don't want them here!"

"Then I'll take them to hotels! Would that make you happy? If it all went down in some seedy Motel 6?"

The walls were thick, but not thick enough, and Will sighed as he tried to refocus. He scribbled down the last few answers then shoved the papers aside to make a beeline for the gym. He found Victor there like he usually was, punching the bag in front of him like he hated it.

"Our parents are arguing again," he said sadly, taping up his spindly hands like the Baron had shown him how.

"Duh." Victor rolled his eyes. "They're always arguing."

"So why are we living in the same place if they don't like each other?" He started throwing little punches of his own at an adjacent bag.

"Because they need each other," Victor said in the condescending tone that always reminded Will that Victor was (however slightly) older and therefore knew infinitely more. "To do their work."

"Well I wish they'd be nice." Punch. "They're always telling _us_ to be nice."

"It's different for grownups, dummy."

"How is it different?"

"It just is!" Victor sounded exasperated. "Don't you know that?"

"No." Will frowned. "Didn't."

"Aw don't be mad." Victor rubbed his head with his boxing glove. "And they're gonna make up. They always do."

"But what if they don't?" Will worried. "What if they have a really big fight and then mommy and I have to go away or your daddy decides to leave and its forever? Then I'll never get to see you again and your dad won't teach me cool things and stuff!"

"Well maybe you'd get to live with that goggle guy you mom is always hanging out with. He seems pretty cool." Victor said doubtfully. "And anyway, just because we aren't living together doesn't mean we can't be friends. I'd still visit ya. Friends can visit."

"You promise?" Will asked to be sure.

"Quadruple swear." He nodded. "Even if you are a dork, I guess you are my best friend."

Will beamed and left the punching bag to go play with a jump rope.

* * *

"You're still talking to him?" The fight had died down for about a week but was really simmering below the surface. "He's been leaving messages; are you two getting back together? I can't believe you're getting back together."

"Quiet," she chided. "It's almost midnight, you're going to wake the boys."

"Well I wouldn't have to shout if you weren't doing such stupid things all the time."

"It's not stupid." She dropped a bag of Early Grey into a mug. "It's smart politics. Okay, so we had a breakup and maybe it didn't happen under the best circumstances. But he's got a lot of west coast influence and he's one of the smartest technical minds out there, including myself. It would be stupid to let a relationship squabble get in the way of a professional relationship."

"That still doesn't tell me why he's calling." The Baron crossed his arms.

Gwen ran a finger around the rim of the mug. "We've been talking."

"I know that."

"About his old girlfriend."

"What? Why would you be talking about that?"

"He really missed her." She sipped her tea. "That's why we didn't work out. And I know he tried using me to get her back and that wasn't good but I think I can help him." Another sip. "You remember that girl that your son and I used to go to school with? The hippie one who could control plants?"

"Yes, I remember her. Annoying little green thumb."

"Well she's about the same age as me, obviously, which makes her another good candidate for Penny. They've got similar body builds, similar hairstyles, even similar attitudes. So I suggested that he let me help capture Layla and he'd get his girlfriend back and then everything would be cool with us again. No harm no foul, right?"

"Are you serious?" He asked slowly. "You're going to help him use some freaky machine to try to bring back his dead girlfriend? And you want me to help, I take it?"

"Well, a machine and a little magic. And you don't have to help; I can do it on my own."

"I've heard that before," he snarked.

"But I would appreciate it," she went on. "As a favor to me."

"I guess I could," he sighed. "It's another stab at Stronghold. But you owe me one. Agreed?"

"Agreed," she nodded and finished her tea.

"Good." He smiled and then went off to check on his son, leaving her alone in the dark kitchen.

* * *

"I can't believe they're doing this to me!" Steve punched the concrete wall that held him.

"This is your fault!" Josie pointed angrily. "He was only a henchman! He wasn't even a very _good _henchman. The only thing he could do was make things wet. And you take it all out on him instead of the ones _actually_ responsible for capturing Leyla?"

"I couldn't get to them fast enough! Believe me, I wanted to, but they got away," he growled.

"And instead of hunting them down, I'm here paying your bail." The officer came up and slid the depowering bars off to the side. "In fact, we're probably not even on the case anymore. I'm sure we've been taken off of it, thanks to your lack of control." She shook her head. "I can't do this anymore, Steve. This is the absolute last straw."

"What are you saying, Josie?" He trailed behind her.

"I want a divorce," she snapped.

"A divorce?" He spun her around. "How dare you! This is about that little sidekick of yours isn't it? Is that why you were so upset that it was a sidekick I took out?"

"Let go of me Steve!" She shouted. "Right now! And I'm mad because you _beat him to death!_"

The officers ran up behind him. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"

Steve set her down on the floor and she glared. "No. We were just leaving. Separately." She made her way to the door of the holding facility and flew off, knowing he wouldn't be able to follow. She flew around for over an over, enjoying the peace and quiet of the blue sky and puffy clouds, before finally coming back down on a lawn that was not her own.

She knocked and the door and tried to straighten up and look dignified.

"Oh god, Josie!" Jonathon gasped. "I heard what happened, it's absolutely awful."

"Yeah," she sighed. "Yeah. Look, Jon, I know I've talked too much and taken up a lot of your time."

"No, Josie, no, not at all, I'm happy to see you. Always." He smiled and pushed up his glasses.

"I know Jon." She shifted from foot to foot. "If you say no I won't be offended. But Steve and I just split and I really don't feel like going back to the house and facing everything tonight." She bit her lip. "I was hoping I could stay with you. It's a terrible imposition and I have no right but I don't want to be alone and I can't go back to the house. Would you mind?"

"Not at all." He stepped back from the door so she could come in. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll put out fresh sheets and towels in the guest bedroom. Can I get you anything else?"

"A glass of wine would be nice," she sighed as she fell onto the couch.

"I'll get you a glass of pinot grigio." He ducked into the kitchen while she kicked off her loafers. When he returned he found her stretched out, causing him to blush. "I'll, uh, go get the guest room ready then." His hand shook a little nearly spilling the wine, but she took it from him in one smooth motion and took a generous sip.

"Don't worry about it," she smiled and took his hand, pulling him so that he sat down next to her. "I'd rather have the company, to be honest."

"You're sure you're alright?" He anxiously twiddled with his hands.

"Better now," she said, letting her head drop onto his shoulder. "Tomorrow might not be so good, though."

She drank her wine for a while in silence until Mr. Boy nervously cleared his throat. "I suppose you'll want to go to bed, then?"

"Sleep would be nice," she admitted.

"I'll just go get the room ready…"

He stood up and she grabbed his hand again. "I already told you Jonathon. Don't worry about it. I don't want to be a bother."

"Oh."

"Oh indeed," she smiled, set down he glass, and lead him down the by now familiar hallway.

* * *

Victor heard a knock at his door and sleepily sat up in bed. The light from the hallway illuminated Will's tiny frame dragging a stuffed cephalopod beside him.

"Hey dweeb. What're you doin' here," he yawned.

"Mommy's crying," he whispered. "In the kitchen."

"Where's my dad?"

"Talking to her." He looked nervous. "I've never seen mommy cry like this before."

"You wanna listen?" Victor slipped out of bed. "Come on, we'll sneak over and listen."

They crept down the hall and halted at the edge of the kitchen door, pressing themselves up against the wall.

"…feel like I failed him!"

"Henchmen take that risk. You did right in getting the girl away. You saw how happy he was. And the transfer was a total success!"

"I know!" She kept sobbing. "But it brought up so many bad memories of _his_ arch-nemesis Hammer because he was like that too, all brawn and no brains, you know, and I keep thinking that I should have known Stronghold would do something stupid."

"Stronghold?" Will whispered to Victor.

"One of the people my dad hates," Victor whispered back.

"Sounds familiar."

"They've talk about him before. Be quiet before they hear us."

"Besides, now he's in prison. We are breaking him Pain."

"I shouldn't be this upset over a henchman," she gasped. "But I _am_. Moist was sweet, in his own awkward way."

"What are they talking about?" Will whispered.

Before Victor could answer, a voice came from behind them. "What are you two doing out of bed?"

"Grandpa!" Will gasped. "I'm sorry." He hugged his plush Cthulhu. "I wanted to know why mommy was crying. What's happening grandpa?"

"A mission went somewhat wrong." He picked Will up. "Anything more than that, I think it's up to your mother to explain."

"Oh. Okay." He hugged Stitches. "Will mommy be okay?"

"She'll be fine. Now come on. You too Victor."

"Only came because he wanted to," Victor grumbled.

"You're not in trouble. But get to bed. Okay?" He guided the boys back to their bedrooms, sparing a glance at the kitchen, hoping himself that Gwen would be alright.

* * *

Okay, first let me say that I apologize for not updating more. Second, somewhere along the line this became a light crossover, but I promise that this fic is always going to focus on the Sky High characters and how things affect them, not the DH characters. I'm mostly using them because I'm not a fan of making or using OCs. More fallout from Leyla's capture will be seen next time. And finally, this will be getting more W/W as they get older but I hope all the family subplots are working too! Let me know what you think.


End file.
